


Comfort

by cledritch



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Falling In Love, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Love at First Sight, M/M, Sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, good lord these tags, soft, taewin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9135082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cledritch/pseuds/cledritch
Summary: Comfort can be anything. It’s a safe haven that you retreat to when you’re overwhelmed with the world and the overload of sensations around you. Comfort can be a memory, comfort can be an item and comfort can be the sentiment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year. I'm going to sleep.

There’s something about comfort that Taeyong realized.

It can be a favorite song, the tune echoing through your head to lull you to sleep. It can be a tangible thing, trinkets or mementos that hang around strings around your neck to carry the memory of how you had it around with you. From books to clothes and even the slightest candy wrapper will give you something to hold on to as you calm yourself against the turmoil of worries that plague your brain.

Taeyong is filled with past demons, mistakes that people still stab into his back as if trying to stitch on him wings made from his wayward words and heavy accusations that he threw in the times of his youth where he let his ego get in the way of his common sense. The world still brings the past back as if trying to see if he’ll snap under pressure, scream out in frustration or do just anything to give them the satisfaction of being right. They don’t think about how it would make Taeyong doubt himself, how it would always look over his shoulder and see that with his shadow came the whispers of the people who didn’t think he was worth forgiving.

_“Why is he even the leader?”_

_“He doesn’t deserve this. He’s an asshole.”_

_“I hope he would die.”_

_“NCT wouldn’t be successful when someone as pathetic as him is in it. SM Entertainment just made a huge mistake.”_

They are just words but these words are enough to make Taeyong retreat into his space, quiet and lost in thought with tears down his cheeks.  There was nothing he’d like to do than go home to his family, to his mother who comforted him and forgave him for his wrongdoings because she knew that Taeyong was still in the process of growing up, learning from the world and one mistake shouldn’t condemn him to be a bad person. She would tell him that he shouldn’t let people bring him down when he himself has regretted his mistakes and try his best to fix himself.

There’s no mother to comfort him and he needed to be strong for his members.

So he acts like he isn’t affected, pretending to be comfortable with eyes that track his every movement for him to slip one more time. Taeyong, however, isn’t okay.

 

Dong Sicheng, or Winwin as he goes by on stage, was someone that Taeyong can call soft.

It’s insulting to call another boy soft but that’s what Taeyong saw in him. Despite the sharp angles of his body and his movements when he executed his dance (Chinese dance that he’s been learning for years), his eyes were like that of a child’s with its naive and wide-eyed stare and his pout that made him look younger even if it contrasted with how tall he was. Sicheng was almost like a toddler with his limited Korean, unsure of how he should act around people who didn’t speak the same language as him and because of that, was reserved unless he was talking to the other Chinese trainees like Kun.

It was something that tugged at Taeyong’s heartstrings, the way Sicheng’s eyebrows furrowed when the other members threw rapid-fire Korean at each other and the way the younger twisted his fingers to keep himself busy.  Yuta noticed this as well, often getting close to Sicheng to place a comforting hand on his shoulder as to help him in any way possible. Yuta understood the feeling of being a stranger in another country but he felt comfortable here now and it was because there were people that helped him through it. Sicheng may not speak much but there’s something about those eyes that reel you in when you least expect it.

So Taeyong took it to himself to help Sicheng.

It was easy, guiding him through the steps. He was very observant, cooperative at best and always listened to Taeyong when the elder spoke (the cute nod that he gave as the elder explained things in the simplest Korean shouldn’t be so cute).  Before he even knew it, Sicheng was to debut and only with one year of training.

It wasn’t surprising when the younger went to him, eyes darting everywhere and hands clutching the edges of his shirt to stop himself from shaking the night before they were set to debut. Taeyong knew the younger would lean on him more these days after the NCT Life in Paju, more comfortable with him after the times they spent together as Taeyong helped him. The latter knew that maybe the way he was treating Sicheng was unfair to his other members but Yuta had carelessly said “He’s like our giant baby and you’re the mom” to which everyone agreed, even the maknaes. He was the grandpa, the one who nags the younger members and takes care of everyone because he wants to that it’s not weird for him to also take care of clueless Sicheng.

“Hyung, I’m scared.” He whispered, accent in his words and he bit his lips that were already starting to bleed from how much he seemed to be gnawing at them.

It made Taeyong uncomfortable in two ways, one that Sicheng might wound his lips and the fact that he looked nothing like the nineteen-year-old he is supposed to be. It’s painfully endearing how his head was lowered and his eyes downcast like a kicked puppy that he reached out to ruffle his hair, hand turning still into the softness of his hair that he knew would be bleached and colored to fit the concept. He wants to relish the natural black strands that looked like ink slipping through his fingers.

“Don’t worry, okay? We’ll be there. You’ll be fine,” He whispered as Sicheng raised his head, eyes still guarded.

Sicheng whispered back an “I don’t want to disappoint everyone.”

Taeyong shook his head, hand pressing a little harder down Sicheng’s scalp in warning. He doesn’t like to hear things like these from the boy who smiled bright when he was given ice cream, he didn’t want to see him act like he was a hole in the team when he was anything but. There would be blaming and finger-pointing in this industry but Sicheng was too pure to garner any hate. Taeyong would make sure that Sicheng was comfortable and he would do everything he can.

Sicheng deserved the world.

“Everyone will love you.” Taeyong said and Sicheng laughed, possibly from embarrassment and maybe at how the elder was looking at him. The twinkle in his eyes filled with adoration and care, speaking volumes of another sentence that Taeyong didn’t voice out.

_I’m already falling in love with you._

 

It was easy. It was so easy for Taeyong to brush back Sicheng’s hair after the hectic schedule, hair stiff with hairspray that kept his bangs away from his face and his eyes lined with kohl that hid the naivety that he gave when he was free of make-up.

“Hyung, you’re my favorite.” The younger smiled with teeth in full display that Taeyong let his hand drift down to Sicheng’s jaw without any thought. Does Sicheng not understand what he’s doing to him? Does he really not see how Taeyong trips over himself to make him comfortable? It’s a funny thought that he would look so innocent when Yuta would sling a hand over his shoulder or ask Taeyong cutely with a smile and his fingers creeping onto the elder’s arm.  Sicheng would have to be blind to not see it.

Unaware of his thoughts, Sicheng continued. “You’re the best, hyung. You’re wonderful and kind and I look up to you. Taeyongie-hyung is the coolest.”

Goddamn there goes his heart. He didn’t think it was possible for it to speed up so fast that it wouldn’t warrant a heart attack. It shouldn’t make him light-headed but here he was, smiling back at Sicheng and letting his feelings grow beyond his control because there’s nothing like the happiness he gets when the boy looks back at him with fondness.

_Doesn’t he know how much I love him?_

Sicheng’s gaze was something he could endure if it meant being looked at as if he could do no wrong.

 

There’s an odd weight on his chest. He blinked away the drowsiness from his eyes, vision a little blurred as he used his hand to rub the sand away. Taeyong must have fallen asleep on the sofa again after their schedule, comeback creeping up on them that he didn’t have time to rest before they were bombarded with activities, practices and promotional preparations.  He shouldn’t be trying to be comfortable after they won that MAMA Award for Rookie of the Year. The expectations were piling up and Taeyong wants to make his friends proud with how they’re starting to grow. It’s what makes pride swell in his chest and try to work harder.

However, when he tried to move, he noticed that there’s warmth weighing him down and looked down only to dig his nose into black hair that smells like peaches.

Taeyong can see the distinct colors of red, white and black on the person, blinking rapidly to finally see the clear  image of Sicheng draped between his legs and his head on Taeyong chest where he squished his cheek against the back of his hand. There’s a blanket thrown over him, fabric slipping because of how he moved his legs and blushing when he realized that he was wearing the elder’s shirt. The NCT 127-pattern one, fit on him when it was a little loose for Taeyong and the black cuffs tight like a glove around his skinny wrist. It wasn’t surprising that Sicheng borrowed clothes from him but he’d ask for permission first before he’d take them.

“Sicheng-“he muttered as he tried to shake his shoulder but then he realized why the younger was wearing his shirt.  The pink sleeve where his fingers almost disappeared into was enough to make him remember that he took Sicheng’s sweater because he was starting to feel pressured. It helped for a while but then he caught whiff of the younger’s cologne on the fabric and started to miss him before he fell asleep.

Both of them were tired so it didn’t make sense to wake Sicheng up.

Taeyong settled back to the pillows he stacked, arm coming up to wrap around the younger’s back while the other ran through his soft hair to make sure he wouldn’t wake up. He placed a kiss on his forehead and went back to his nap.

Comfort can be anything. It’s a safe haven that you retreat to when you’re overwhelmed with the world and the overload of sensations around you. Comfort can be a memory, comfort can be an item and comfort can be the sentiment.

For Taeyong, comfort was with Dong Sicheng.

 

 


End file.
